With Felicity occupied again, Eleanor made quick work of the window latch. “I’m opening the window,” she announced, hoping she was right about Felicity. “The baby could use some fresh air.”
“That’s a good idea,” Felicity said, turning her attention back to the door. “Now, Marshal, you ought to get back to your job. People might be needing you.”
Eleanor raised the window, shivering involuntarily when the cool air hit her face. Merrick waited outside with Mr. Inman, who made a gesture toward the window next door. Eleanor drew in a deep breath, wanting nothing more than to pull Merrick toward her and embrace him. Instead, she stepped back—and waited.
In a matter of seconds, the two men had climbed in through the window.
Felicity whipped around. “What is this?” She clutched Davy to her. “Richard! Why is Mr. Benton here? Why did you come through the window?”
Mr. Inman crossed the room toward his wife as the door opened.
Felicity turned again. “Marshal!” Her voice was laced with annoyance. “How dare you come in here?”
Marshal Wright’s hand rested on the pistol at his side. Eleanor slid carefully over to the table while Felicity went to her husband. Moving slowly so as not to attract Felicity’s attention, she picked up the gun, dropped it into the pocket of her skirt, and returned to Merrick’s side.
“Mrs. Inman,” the marshal said gently. “I need you to give that baby to Mrs. Benton. Right now.”
“Why would I do that?” Her blue eyes were wild, and she reminded Eleanor of an animal backed into a corner.
“Felicity. Sweetheart, please.” Mr. Inman reached for her. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days.
She stared at him, almost as if she didn’t know him. “Richard?”
Next to her, Merrick started to take a step, but Eleanor moved in front of him. “Felicity, I imagine Mr. Inman would love to hold his son. After all, he hasn’t seen him all day. Wouldn’t you like to hold him, Mr. Inman?” She gave the man a pleading look.
He stared at her a second, and then nodded. “Yes. Yes, I’d like that very much.”
Felicity sighed. She adjusted Davy’s blanket and then handed him to her husband. “I suppose I could—What are you doing?” She lunged forward as Mr. Inman turned and handed Davy to Merrick, who had come to stand beside Eleanor.
“Let them be, Mrs. Inman.” Marshal Wright managed to grab her by the arms before she could reach the baby again.
“What are you doing with Leo?” she demanded of Merrick while she tried to tug free of the marshal’s grasp. “I don’t understand. Richard, what’s happening?” Tears dropped down her cheeks.
Merrick passed Davy to Eleanor. “Your wife needs help,” he practically growled at Mr. Inman.
Mr. Inman’s face fell. “I didn’t think it would come to this. I’m sorry for all of this trouble. For how afraid you must have been. Please, Mrs. Benton.” He looked right at Eleanor.
She didn’t know what he was pleading for. Forgiveness, perhaps. With Davy safe in her arms, all she felt now was pity for both Felicity and her husband. “Marshal, what will happen now?”
“That decision rests with you and your husband,” he replied, guiding a thoroughly confused Mrs. Inman to the chair where Eleanor had spent the past hour. “It’s in her best interest to come with me tonight—”
“To jail?” Mr. Inman asked in anguish.
“I can’t risk her getting out in town,” the marshal said, sympathy clouding his voice. He turned back to Eleanor and Merrick. “What she did is kidnapping, and you have every right to see her go to trial.”
Eleanor’s gaze fell on the woman she’d considered a friend. Felicity’s eyes were round as she watched them. She looked as if hurting anyone was the last thing she’d ever consider.
“My baby,” she said, whimpering a little when Davy stirred in Eleanor’s arms.
Eleanor looked up at Merrick. He was stone-faced, and she knew exactly what he was thinking. “It wouldn’t be right,” she said softly.
He raised his eyebrows, his eyes stormy.
“We have Davy. No one is hurt. She needs help and she won’t get it in prison.” Eleanor shifted Davy and took Merrick’s hand.
He wrapped his large hand around hers, and Eleanor was suddenly exhausted. All she wanted was to go home—with her family.
“If that’s what you want,” he finally said, a note of disbelief in his voice. He turned to the marshal. “But I don’t want to see them here again. Ever.”
